Where Are You Actually From?

Author’s Note: Published in Amphion, award-winning Arts and Literature magazine in 2020.

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Beaded blue eyes drift down to meet my hollow gaze,

His blue reveals sincere curiosity uprooted by superiority.

As my eyes a pool of tar,

Acts as a mirror flaunting a portrait of bigotry.

The truth I reply with,

Never satisfies his validation.

As his gleaming gaze rests upon,

A pale face, washed out by years of affliction.

He repeats the question again,

The second time it might be clearer.

Maybe he should say it louder,

In a language that I might understand.

Indicate the map of the world using large gestures,

His blue eyes pinpoint my ethnic region.

Educate me on my own genetics,

Show me my origin.

Rage envelops my mouth,

A family history of immigration, I assert.

An ancestry originated in China,

As his eyes shine with fascination.

So you are from China, he determines.

An assumption extracted from prejudice lies,

A fragment of my identity chiseled away.

Now an oral tradition inherited by new generations,

Tailor-made to doubt my narrative.

His eyes, glistening with content,

A clear blue ocean with the sun high above.

And mine, a chasm polluted with obsidian,

Eclipsed from the light.